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The Only Rules That Matter (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

It was the sort of week that passed by like half-frozen molasses until one looked at it in retrospect, in which case it seemed no time at all. Jenny didn't see John the rest of the week, which only made her more anxious for Sunday. She took it as a sign that John had been kept busy rather than that he hadn't wanted to see her. At least, she hoped that was it. She wasn't certain just how deep her feelings for John Sparrow went, but she did know that she liked him and wanted to know him better. After all, she was only fifteen; of a marrying age certainly, but in no great rush.

Jenny spent the remainder of the week dodging questions first from her father, then her brothers, about "her new young man." It took the intervening of the good Mrs. Mary Dolan on her daughter's behalf during dinner Saturday evening to earn Jenny a reprieve. This reprieve, however, was temporary. Mrs. Dolan had to remind her younger son in a harsh whisper several times that mass was a time for prayer and reflection, not for pestering his sister.

St. Catherine's was a modest but pretty cathedral. Its parishioners were mostly Irish and French immigrants, though there were of course a few English Catholics in attendance. Being the only Cathedral in town, all of the Catholics went to St. Catherine's regardless of which side of the river they were on. Fortunately, she lived and worked on the same side of the river. Once the priest had walked back down the center aisle Jenny hastily knelt at the end of the pew, crossed herself, and walked as quickly as was seemly out of the church before breaking into a jog toward the pub, where her father had excused himself after communion to open up to give the children a quiet place to study.

"John." Jenny walked in a few minutes after John, turning the deadbolt behind herself lest some sinful drunkard think the tavern was for some reason open on Sunday. She smiled as she shrugged off her Sunday shawl and hung it on a peg. "How were church?"
 
It was empty.

John stood in shock for a moment, taking it all in. Well, of course it was empty, it was Sunday , after all. But, then why had it been unlocked? And where was... anyone? Jenny, most of all, but...

The door opened again, and she called his name. "Jenny!" he answered, turning. "Church was, uhm, too long?" He followed her lead, hanging his coat on a peg. It was neatly patched, and a little worn, but warm and dry. Waste not, want not, as Master Christopher was fond of saying. "Seems like most sermons could be wrapped up in minutes: be good, 'cause God's watching."

He gave her a bit of a shy grin, then looked around the empty common room. "But its gotten to be a lot better, now you're here. The day, that is. Not church, on account of us bein' here." A pause. "So., uhm... where should we start? Do you know your letters?"
 
Jenny smiled and shook her head gently. "A good sermon says so much more than that," she rebutted gently. Religion was far too touchy a subject to get into at this point. They were here, after all, to learn and be taught.

"I know the letters in my name," she said proudly. "Jennifer Marian Dolan. A sailor wrote the letters out once and taught me the sounds. But that's about it." She sat at a small table in the corner, patting the spot across from herself.
 
John found himself nodding agreement at Jenny's assessment of sermons. "Probably right. Pity I've not heard one then. Maybe I..."

Maybe I should go to your church, some Sunday. But that was, just maybe, going too far.

Instead he followed Jenny to one of the tables, and listened to the pride in her voice as she proclaimed that she could recognize and read her own name. "That's a good start," he agreed, opening his pack and setting the contents on the table. There was a large book, cover nicked and scarred, with faint remnants of gilt on the title embossed into the cover. There was a second book, slimmer and less abused. And there was a writing slate, and several pieces of chalk.

Then he scratched his head, trying to remember how the tutor Master Christopher had hired had taught him and Jacob. Oh, yeah. Rote memorization, and a birch branch.

So, instead, John improvised. "Your sailor," he began, feeling a sudden jab of jealousy at the words, "actually taught you a chunk of what you need to know. See, reading's like... like... like looking at a picture."

Grabbing the chalk, he wrote 'JENNIFER' across the top of the slate. "Each letter's the picture of a sound." As he talked, he began drawing curves on the slate. "Takes a while to get the hang of it..." Now he pulled the slate over, scratching and scribbling. "But when you do, you won't see the letters any more'n you'd see the lines."

He held up the slate, revealing a competant (if amaturish) sketch of a young woman with long, curly hair.

"And then, it's like seeing after a life of blindness."
 
Jenny pursed her lips at the idea of never having heard a good sermon. He clearly just wasn't going to the right church. She made a note to herself to invite him to church some time, but John seemed quite intent on getting started. She looked at all of the books and slates he pulled out of his bag and felt daunted; this looked like it was going to be even harder than she had first thought.

"He wasn't my sailor," Jenny mumbled to the table, feeling for some reason embarrassed, as though she ought to have apologized for learning from someone else. She didn't know why; it wasn't like she owed John anything. Still, she was a little embarrassed.

Looking up, she watched John draw as he explained, roughly, the process of reading. He made it sound a little easier, though only a little. Jenny smiled when he held up the drawing, recognizing it as herself (roughly; if they'd had the luxury of affording a mirror her parents still wouldn't have bought one, and as a result Jenny had only ever seen her reflection in spoons and water) as well as her name. While she recognized on sight what her name was supposed to look like, she still had to sound out each individual letter to actually know what it said. Had he written some nonsense that looked roughly like her name, Jenny would have thought it said the same thing.

"It's beautiful," Jenny said quietly. "So's the way you teach reading. So um...how many 'pictures' do I have to learn?"
 
"Nah," John answered, smiling. "You're beautiful. The picture's just honest, that's all."

A second later, he realized he'd said that out loud. He didn't blush - at least, he didn't think he'd blushed. He was too busy being startled by his own daring. So he cleared his throat. "And, uhm, there's... um..." He drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "There's twenty-six of them. Here, let me show you."

Hesitantly, he wiped the chalk sketch off the slate. Then he began drawing each of the letters in turn, naming a common object went. "A, which is for Apple." "B, which is for Beer." That sort of thing. It wasn't until he near the end that he hit a difficult patch.

"W, which is for Water. X, which is for... uhm... uh..." John scratched his forehead, leaving a light dusting of chalk on his hair. "X is for... uhm..." He gnawed his lip in thought. "Xerxes?" he finally said, hesitantly, remembering the primer his tutor had made him use. "Haven't the slightest idea what that is, really. So, yeah. Y, which is for Yellow. And Z, which is for..." He hesitated again, hunting for a word that started with a z. "Uhm... zither."

Looking up and catching Jenny's eye, he laughed. "Some of the letters get used a whole lot more, really." He wiped the slate clean again. "Here, your turn. Write an 'A'."
 
John wasn't the only one who'd been startled. Jenny stared for a few moments, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. Her mouth opened and closed for a few moments though no sound came out, and unlike him she blushed and looked down, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. John recovered before she did and dove back into the lesson, informing her that there were twenty-six letters and starting to write each one.

"I don't know what a xerxes is either," Jenny admitted, trying to hide her smile at the streak of chalk left on his hair, "nor a zither." Finally she couldn't help it. She giggled and scooted closer, reaching up. "What letter does 'chalk' start with?" she teased, dusting out his hair.

The slate was wiped clean and she was left staring at it with a piece of chalk in her hand. Jenny had to think hard for a few minutes. Which one was A again? Finally she remembered and drew out a capital letter A. The handwriting was shaky and juvenile, but she looked proudly at it. It was the first letter she had ever written.
 
"I think," John said, frowning in concentration, "that a xerxes is a kind of Spanish wine. Seems an odd thing to use when..." He glanced at her, watching her scoot closer. "..teaching someone to read, though. And..."

Jenny's fingers ran through his hair, dusting out the chalk. "Uhm... a zither's a..." Wow, she was distracting. "You know, I won't even try to guess."

He could still feel the light touch of her fingers on his scalp as she struggled through writing a capital A, and he enjoyed her expression of pride and triumph when it was complete. "That's the first letter in the alphabet, that is. It sounds like 'Aaaayyy'," he exaggerated the pronunciation. "Like in Aaaayynchor. It can also sound like 'ah', like in Blahck. Or in your middle name - Mmmahrion."

Giving her a grin, he noticed that her one unruly lock of hair had escaped again. This time, he reached up and tucked it behind her ear for her. "Or in hahir," he winked. Then he took the chalk from her fingers, wiped the board again, and drew three letters - A, B, and C - naming them each in turn and describing how they sounded. Then he pressed the chalk back into her hand, letting his fingers linger just a bit. "Now, your turn. Write each of them three times, and tell me their names when you do."
 
He was touching her hair. Jenny usually didn't like anyone touching her typically wild hair, but as John tucked that one unruly curl behind her ear she felt her heart beat faster. He had such a handsome smile...and then he winked at her! She was glad she was sitting, or else she would have found herself weak in the knees and hard pressed to find an explanation for John.

The tavern master's daughter tried not to get too distracted when her new tutor's fingers lingered on her palm. She blinked a few times before remembering what it is she had to do next. Coming to herself, she copied John's letters three times. She was surprised to find that she was a quick learner.

"Aaaayy," she said slowly, writing a letter A for the third time, "like aaaynchor." Underneath the last copy she drew a rough figure of an anchor. "Beee like...well, like a bee I suppose." She drew a bumblebee, unaware that the insect was spelled with more than the letter b. "Seee...like the ocean." She drew a few waves to represent the ocean then looked to John for his approval.
 
John nodded his approval, as she sketched out the letter A and an anchor, then chuckled as she drew a bumblebee. The letter "C" left him baffled for a moment, since his concentration was really slightly distracted. Then he shook his head. "This," he said gently, "is the part that you'll find ridiculous. I know I did, anyway. The letter 'C' usually sounds like 'kuh'."

He took the rag and wiped away the wavy lines, then took the chalk and drew a cylinder under it. "C. Like kuhake. Or ankuhor. Or kuhat," He wrote the three words, just to show her the Cs, then shrugged. "Don't blame me," he said, smiling at her. "I didn't make the rules."

Still smiling, wiped the board clean and pressed the chalk back into her hand. "Try again," he urged, quite forgetting to let go of her hand. "You're doing fine."
 
Jenny raised her eyebrows. C didn't make a "see" sound? That was absurd. She tried to gauge whether John was simply teasing her, but he wrote down several words and she realized he wasn't. Well, she would simply avoid the letter 'c' at all costs, silly thing that it was.

"C. Like kuhake. Or ankuhor. Or kuhat," he explained.

"Or kiss?" Jenny suggested, going along with the 'k' sounds. She shut her mouth tightly, unable to believe she'd just said that. Had she really just said that?? Swallowing hard, she looked back down at the now clean slate. It was hard to breathe. "I um...I can't write without my hand," she reminded John quietly before gently taking her hand back and trying the letters again.
 
John's eyes widened at her additional suggestion for a C-word, and his heart pounded in his chest. There were a few other reactions as well, unexpected ones, that made him squirm in his seat and bite his lip. "Uhm... noooo..." he managed. "That's... ah... that is..."

She seemed to need a deep breath as well. "I um...I can't write without my hand," she said.

Reluctantly, he released her hand and watched her form the letters again. Then, remembering the previous night, he screwed up his courage and darted his head forward. His lips touched her cheek, brushing lightly, and then he pulled away. "Kiss," he said, suddenly feeling very warm and like was having trouble breathing, "is spelled with a K."
 
Jenny chewed lightly on her tongue as she wrote out the letters over and over. It was partly from concentration, partly from embarrassment. She was embarrassed she had said that and even more embarrassed that 'kiss' apparently didn't start with 'c'. What good was C, then, if it didn't make a 'see' sound and the sound it did make was done just as well by another letter? C was a ridiculous letter, she decided. It really didn't need to exist.

Then, out of the clear blue, John kissed her. Certainly it was just her cheek, but a kiss was still a kiss. Her breath hitched and her face grew even redder than it had already been. It was so surprising that Jenny tried to hide the pain as she damn near bit her tongue off. Suddenly it was very warm in the empty tavern and her dress was far too tight across her chest.

"Well...good. That's good," Jenny said finally, looking up at John. "I've decided I don't like the letter C anyway." She leaned forward and gently kissed John's lips. It was quick and shy, as it had been the night before, but affectionate. When she pulled away, Jenny wasn't entirely sure whether to keep looking at him or avoid his gaze and turn back to their studies. Instead she sat there, occasionally meeting John's eye while looking around, waiting for him to say or do something and wishing she didn't always have to make everything so awkward.
 
Just when it didn't seem like the day could get any better, Jenny leaned forward and kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm, and lingered just a little, and that warmth coursed through his veins and remained when she pulled away. And then she sat there, looking shy and uncomfortable and glancing back at him.

So John reached over and tucked that stray lock of hair back behind her ear again. And then he leaned forward, his hand gently cupping her cheek, and kissed her back. It wasn't a long kiss, but it seemed to last forever. His heart thudded in his chest, and his hand trembled just a little, and he felt as if the world were spinning and vanishing. For an eternal heartbeat, Jenny was the only real thing in the world.

Finally, he pulled back. Not far. Just enough that he could look into her leaf-green eyes and still feel her breath on his skin. "I don't know about the letter C," he said, voice husky, "but I certainly like U."
 
The world stopped. It didn't just stop, it disappeared. There was no tavern, no table, no alphabet. The skies and the seas didn't seem quite so endless as the feeling of John's lips on hers. Jenny breathed in sharply, deeply, and as she did inhaled the wonderful smell that was quite simply John. His hand trembled slightly against her cheek and she couldn't help but put her hands on his knees, feeling like she would lose balance and tip over if she didn't.

After what seemed like years but surely could only have been a minute, maybe less, John pulled away just enough to be able to look at her. Jenny shook slightly, looking up into his dark eyes and feeling as though she could lose herself in them forever. She'd kissed boys before; not many, but a few. Why hadn't any of them felt like this? The romantic in her knew the answer, but the pragmatist quieted that voice quickly. That wouldn't do at all.

"I don't know about the letter C, but I certainly like U."

Jenny couldn't help but giggle. "Tell me we aren't talking about letters still," she answered quietly, leaning in for another kiss.

That Sunday was the first of many reading lessons. Jenny and John met when they could during the week, though they were both usually quite busy, but regardless of business they always had Sundays. Often their lessons would be unintentionally split into two halves just as their first lesson had been...until Mr. Dolan started taking notice of his daughter's new attitudes and activities and began chaperoning these reading lessons after a few months. He still kept a close eye on John for his daughter's sake, though seemed to become less suspicious and critical of the lad as time went on. A year and some had passed before he was entirely comfortable leaving Jenny unsupervised with John and their friends.

It wasn't long before their courtship "officially" began, with John often knocking on the Dolans' door, hat in hand and surrounded by mutual friends of both sexes, asking for Jenny. If he was lucky, Mary would be the one to come to the door and was generally more lenient. Mr. Dolan...well, Mr. Dolan was protective of his only daughter. It was Mr. Dolan, therefore, who had been the one to say 'no' when Jenny asked to go out on All Hallows Eve with some friends. She and John had been courting over a year, but the boy wasn't the reason.

"Demons and spirits are known to walk about on All Hallows Eve, Jennifer. Especially at midnight," Michael Dolan had reminded his daughter, nodding sagely. "I won't put you in that sort of danger." Jenny had in turn rolled her eyes and tried to argue, but a stop was put to that very quickly. Expecting this sort of a reaction from her father, who in her opinion had no sense of adventure, she had told John which bedroom window was hers and left a candle lit. After her parents had gone to bed she waited, somewhat impatiently, for her darling.
 
Time passed. It always does.

For John, it was simply the happiest year of his comparatively short life. And Sundays quickly became the best day of the week - even after Mr. Doyle started chaperoning their lessons. Sure, that made the kissing harder (but, oddly, even sweeter), but just being in her company made him happy. And Mr. Doyle did start getting less intense, once the started doing more with Jacob and Sarah and Anne and Howard.

Still, it wzs a lot easier when Jenny's mother answered the door. She never looked like she was considering stomping on him...

But now, tonight? Tonight was something special. All Hallow's Eve. And they were off to do something daring. Which was why he was lurking in the shadows of a little lane, watching the small house that adjoined the Black Anchor. Time crawled as he watched the lights, and time and again he fingered the smallish box in his coat pocket.

The lights began to wink out, one by one. Finally, only a single small candle glimmered, right about where it should be. Carefully he crossed the cobbled lane, heart in his mouth. If he got this wrong, if this candle proved to be in a different room..?

Jenny's dad would skin him alive. He'd never believe he wasn't there for some licentious reason.

Gently, he rapped on the glass. "Jenny, love?" He doubted he'd ever get tired of saying that. "It's John. Are you ready?"
 
Jenny was sitting close by the candle, practicing her letters. In the dim light she could see the simple words that made up short little stories in a primer John had given her to practice with. Now that she knew her letters she was slowly beginning to pick up reading. Small words like 'cat,' 'there,' 'apple,' were about her reading level, but it was a triumph nonetheless. When the rap came at her window she jumped, startled. With a grin she stood and pushed the small desk aside before opening the window.

"'Course I am! Been ready near an hour!" she replied in an excited whisper. She took one last look at the stuffed bed to make sure the pillows were in a convincing shape before blowing out the candle and climbing out the window. "Ouch! Bloody...ugh. Now I know why Da wanted to plant the roses outside my window."

Once she'd untangled herself from the flower bushes and staggered quite ungracefully out onto the road, Jenny took John's hand and grinned up at him in the dark. It was quite an adventure they were planning tonight. She'd never really been on a real adventure.

"So where are we going?" Jenny asked once they were out of earshot of her house and down the road. "Are the others coming or is it just us?"
 
"Jacob's over at Anne's house, telling ghost stories with her family. And Sarah got an itch to go to mass, and dragged Howard off with her." John made a show of looking left and right, then caught Jenny's hand and pulled her into an embrace. "So, it's just us."

He kissed her, then. It was a more skilled kiss than that first one, a year ago in the Black Anchor, warm and affectionate and flavored with desire. Then, as he drew back, he gently drew her into the moonlight and removed a smallish box from his pocket. "I got you something," he murmured, eyes dark and sparkling in the silvery light. "I wanted to be able to give it to you last month, but... well.."

He opened the box. Within was a silver chain, and a pendant of silver wire embracing a tiny sphere of something shimmered like moonlight on the nighttime sea. "I hope you like it."
 
Just them! Jenny grinned as John took her hand. She loved and savored the occasional instance when their friends cancelled on them and she 'forgot' to tell her parents she would be alone with her sweetheart. As he pulled her into an embrace she wrapped her arms around his neck, groaning gently into the kiss. They had since become more skilled and, as time went on, more passionate about each other and about kissing. She grinned as he drew back and pulled her into the moonlight. She loved the way the full moon shone on his hair and in his dark gypsy eyes.

"Got me someth--" Jenny frowned a little and cut herself of as he pulled a small box from his pocket. Was it--?

No, it wasn't. But it was the most beautiful necklace she'd ever seen, and that was even in the dark. Jenny breathed in sharply and gently touched the pendant, as though afraid of breaking it, before looking up at John. Her John. Her mouth slowly spread into a wide grin as she pulled him into another tight embrace and a gentle but loving kiss.

"It's beautiful, John!" she said at last. "I've never had something so beautiful before." Jenny pulled her hair to one side and turned around so John could help her fasten it behind her neck. "What's the pendant made of? And ah...what's the occasion?"
 
"I've never seen anything quite like it before," John said, sliding the fine chain around Jenny's throat. "A sailor off one of the East india Company ships bartered it to me for... well, never mind what. Medicine." He fumbled at the clasp. "Said it was a black pearl, he did. And the moment I saw it, I knew it was yours."

The clasp caught, and John dropped his face to lightly kiss her neck. "I wanted it to be ready for the nineteenth, last month. Because you're my black pearl, Jennifer Doyle. Rare and beautiful, and more precious than all the world. And I wanted you to know it."
 
Jenny pursed her lips a little at John's hesitation to say what he'd bartered it for. Opium, probably, but it didn't matter now. The deed had been done almost two months ago and there was no use harping on it. She'd never heard of a black pearl before, which just made it all the more special. She shivered at the touch of his lips on her neck.

"Oh John!" Once the clasp was fastened she turned and hugged him tightly, kissing him hard and sliding her fingers into his hair. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to or done for her. "I think you must be the most wonderful man on Earth, John Sparrow," Jenny said once she'd pulled gently away from the kiss. "I...I love you, John. Truly, I really do."

Jenny waited with baited breath to hear his answer before turning and walking again, holding his hand and still smiling. She looked up at the man she so admired and loved, wishing this night would never end. She had never been in love before, but now that she was she knew she would never feel anything so fiercely and passionately as what she felt for John Sparrow.

"So where are we going tonight? You still haven't told me."
 
"I... I love you, John. Truly, I do."

Although the words were not unexpected, they still seemed to echo and dance in his ears. For a year they'd played at it - "Jenny, love." "John, dear." And they'd stolen moments and kisses, znd he had become as familiar a sight st the Black Anchor as she had at the apothecary. But... somehow... he'd never said those words.

And now, she had.

With a whooo of delight, not caring who heard him at that moment, he caught his Jenny in his arms and lifted her off her feet, spinning as if dancing. "And I love you, Jenny!" he cried, kissing her fiercly. "I love you, and God curse me for a fool for not saying so sooner!"

He kissed her again, holding her close as he did, savoring the taste of her mouth and the feel of her body against his. And then he just held her, enjoying her warmth and her closeness, and the scent of her hair.

Her eventual murmured question made him sigh contentedly. "Where are we going?" he echoed. "Anywhere. Everywhere. To world's end, even. Together." His arms tightened around ner shoulders briefly, and then - reluctantly - he stepped back once mor. Not far, but at the same time farther than ever he wanted to be.

There was adoration in his gaze. And mischief.

"The castle," he answered, conspiratorially. "They say that, at midnight on All Hallow's Eve, the headless ghost of a soldier stalks the curtain wall." He leaned in, his voice a hot whisper in her ear. "And we're going to go see him."
 
Jenny hadn't expected that sort of a reaction. She laughed and yelped in surprise as he lifted her off of her feet and spun her around. She kissed him back as he declared his love for her...very loudly. Still giggling, she shushed him though she still grinned.

"John!" Jenny pleaded in a harsh whisper. "You'll wake the neighbors then we won't go anywhere!"

Still giggling, she started back down the road with him walking as close as she was able. John loved her! It wasn't unexpected, but still it was the most thrilling discovery of her young life. The look in his eyes in the moonlight was one she'd never forget: loving and mischievous, adoring and triumphant, all around amazing and the center of Jenny's world. She shivered as he leaned in and whispered, both from the hot breath on her ear and neck and from his plan. She was quite familiar with the legend of the headless ghost, but had never been daring enough to try and see him.

"No such thing as ghosts, John," Jenny said with a smile, though her voice belied her doubt. She didn't think it was entirely untrue, and the thrill and risk of going to go see the headless soldier made her tremble in excitement. "But c'mon. Must be nigh on midnight anyway." She broke into a jog, keeping a hold of John's hand and pulling him down the road toward the old castle.
 
"No such thing as ghosts, John," Jenny said with a smile.

"Really?" John answered, smiling back. "Then why is everyone afraid of them?"

"But c'mon. Must be nigh on midnight anyway." She broke into a jog, keeping a hold of John's hand and pulling him down the road toward the old castle. Laughing, he followed in her wake.


scary-dover

They huddled in the trees on the southeast side of the Castle, peering up at the outermost curtain walls. The trick to this, one of the things that made it so daring, was that the Castle was still in use. Not for much - it certainly wasn't the grand fortress it had been as recently as the late Civil War. But there was still a garrison, serving as guards for French prisoners of war.

The walls were crumbling in places, but they still stood imposingly tall. A few torches flickered on the Inner Bailey Walls and in the slitted windows of the Keep itself. But no soldiers could be seen patrolling the outer curtain walls. Certainly not at this time of night.

John grinned, teeth flashing in the shadows. "Up there," he whispered. "The stories say he can be seen in the Peacester and Avranches Towers." He traced his finger along the curtain wall to the east. "And... right there. The wall's collapsed enough that we could climb up it and follow it to the Towers."
 
Jenny huddled between a tree and John, hiding in the shadows and looking up at the daunting castle walls. She tried not to get too distracted by their closeness, but that had always distracted her. She eyed the flickering torches dubiously though she couldn't see any guards on the wall. She jumped at the breath on her ear as John whispered.

"We won't get caught?" She looked over to John, excitement glinting in her eyes even in the dark. She looked back to follow his finger along the wall to the collapsed portion. "Well then let's go!"

Stepping over fallen branches as she picked her way out of the forest, Jenny pulled at John's hand. Excitedly she led the way through the grass between the edge of the forest and the castle, tripping over divets kicked up by horses here and there. Panting a little she pressed her back against the cold castle wall, her breath rising in a mist. Once she had caught her breath she looked over to John before a wide smile slowly spread across her features. Finally she let go of his hand and turned, feeling along the wall for a handhold to pull herself up.

"C'mon! If we don't make it tonight we'll have to wait a whole nother year!"
 
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